The best poems Are those that arrive Just before unconsciousness Pulled from that inner gravity The black hole of sleep. They say their peace Quietly With little fanfare or rousing of the spirit Then vanish Like light Stricken by night 2014sm

Nothing to be sad about, Though your logic unit may falter And all the clouds look like rats In various modes of vermin behavior, There is love, there is the infinite. The universe cares not for your notations, your sadness over not owning a Cadillac. There is nothing to be sad about, Though the crushing…

Death wraps arms, vines forever upward around the codons leading to you on the edge of existence. Lean forward, out in the infinite, The space our hearts are driven to return to, the same monstrous destiny we frantically wish to avoid, the end, the leap, the transfer. 2014sm